


untitled

by tigriswolf



Series: poetry [70]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Autobiography, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 15:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10193345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: Where does grief gowhen it finally fades and floats away?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written March 8, 2017

Where does grief go  
when it finally fades and floats away?  
Is it relief, the lightening of a load;  
is it hope, rushing into your soul,  
lifting you up, letting you think,  
if only for a single moment  
and not a breath more,  
that happiness might sink back into your bones,  
barren for so long, cold and weary?  
.  
Grief consumes, ravenous and slavering,  
until all you feel is exhaustion,  
broken and weak, like nothing  
will ever ease the pain, the emptiness.  
But when it finally splinters,  
what is left?  
Hope? Relief? Anything? No—  
—thing.  
.  
When the grief floats away,  
where does it go?  
Does it settle somewhere else,  
take root, spread pain and fear and anger  
—despair—  
where before there existed something?  
.  
Grief subsumes, washing away everything  
anything nothing something—  
All.  
Where does grief go when it fades  
and what is left when it goes?  
Relief? The resurrection of hope?  
A trench so deep it’d never be possible to climb free?  
Can relief sweep you up,  
fly you out,  
cocoon around you,  
let you sleep?  
Can hope warm what is frozen,  
bloom what is barren?  
What happens? What remains?  
When hurts heal—slowly, softly—  
When hurts heal—  
Hurts heal—  
.  
When grief finally fades and floats away,  
where does it go?  
What is left in its absence?  
Perhaps relief settles in, spreading  
fragile wings, shifting  
fragile muscles, stretching  
towards a light, far in the distance,  
a light shining softly, hesitantly,  
hopeful—  
.  
Hope, the strength, the thought that  
surviving leads eventually to something else—  
.  
Grief consumes, digests, spits out  
someone you don’t know but  
who seems familiar, similar,  
an echo, a distorted reflection,  
a was become an is.  
When grief goes, a new person is left, someone  
with fresh scars,  
with divots,  
with sore spots that will (perhaps) always be tender.  
Hurt heals, when grief is survived.  
.  
Grief goes. Where? Away.  
You remain. You remain.  
You breathe, you cry, you smile—  
You live.  
You live.  
.  
Grief fades and floats away.  
You remain.  
You live.


End file.
